


Passion Rules Reason

by SwordDraconis113



Series: Deep Shadows [1]
Category: Legend of the Seeker, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:13:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordDraconis113/pseuds/SwordDraconis113
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Passion rules reason, for better or for worse, Regina,” Darken Rahl curtly told her.</p><p>Queen Regina’s alliance with D’Hara is use to wreak havoc across both the Midlands and the Enchanted Forest. Unknown to her and Rahl, Kahlan Amnell is searching across the boundary for the Seeker, Snow White is aware of the prophecy surrounding her child, Red is captured in the middle of a mission, the Mother Confessor has aligned herself with a false Queen, and Cara, Dahlia and Garen are chasing after a kidnapper when baby Henry is stolen from his crib.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The doors were thrown open before two guards tumbled inside the room. Mildly surprised, Darken Rahl, Lord over the D’Haran Land, looked up from his unconscious guards to see Queen Regina from the Enchanted Forest, standing in the doorway. Running his eyes over the leather pants, up to the black floor-length duster, and finally to her face, where her long dark hair, was restrained to the back of her head, he met dark eyes. 

“Regina,” he sighed,  “knocking would have just as easily sufficed. You know you are always welcome here, there’s no need to knock out my guards.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked with a smirk. Darken Rahl returned the smile briefly before nodding at his personal guards on either side, the Mord-Sith, to stand down. 

Each one of the guards, all of whom were women, were dressed in skintight leather that covered from their neck, to their feet. The women - because it was only ever the women - were instilled from around the age of ten years, with the ability to withstand even the most cruelest of torture.

Regina found them fascinated, the fact that they were always connected to the pain that’s held within their leather rods (their weapons) called agiels, was something inspiring to her. However, their ability to take any magic used in their presence and twist it completely into their control was enough to waver some fear within her. It was one of the many reason she had kept her alliance with Lord Rahl  healthy.  

Running her eyes over the women, Regina grinned almost cruelly. “Cara’s been so helpful,” she teased. A twitch appeared at Darken’s fingers before he curled them loosely into his hand and clasped them behind his back. “As has Dahlia...and the others.”

“I imagine so,” he said curtly. Regina’s smile widened as the two Mord-Sith on either side began to reach for their weapons.

“She was your favorite, wasn’t she? Cara that is.”

“One of them.” Nodding, Regina stepped forward, her heels echoing on the marble floor. “Regina, as much as I’m sure you love to tease me - as I you - but we both know that you didn’t travel for days in your carriage to taunt me with the Mord-Sith you’ve taken.”

“You gave them to me,” she deflected.

“I meant for you to take Dahlia and those under her,” he counted, “but it’s in the past and for you to carry on with this means that something has deeply upset you.” The mask on Regina’s face slid enough for Darken Rahl to grin mockingly at her. Turning he gestured for the Mord-Sith to leave them before he lead Regina out into the hallway and down to a more secluded room for them to talk in peace. 

He already knew what she wanted and for him to weave the plan to his liking, he needed them both to be away from prying ears.

Regina’s steps echoed behind him, but they were more relaxed without an audience. The two of them always began with theatrics. They enjoyed taunting and teasing each other in the beginning, but they also had a mutual understanding of each other. Both had been raised by parents that never nurtured nor truly cared for them, and both strived to prove themselves to the world.

In the private room, Regina sank down in the large, open chair by the fire and stared up at Rahl with more emotions that she’d ever allow present around anyone else. He glanced at her briefly before turning to the fireplace and watching the flames dance. Patiently he waited for her to begin, knowing that prompting her would only make her defensive, and that did not serve him well.

Moments passed in silence before Regina rose her head. “I need your help,” she admitted. 

“May I ask why?”

“I need a dark curse, one that will give me…”

“Your happy ending,” he finished for her, turning to look her in the eye. Regina didn’t reply but the answer was written over her face. Darken nodded and turned back to the fire. His red robes glowed in the light and Regina quietly admired the way his long hair fell over his face, cutting over his blue eyes in a stark contrast. 

Their relationship was one of convenience, but both admired and respected each other enough to be as close to friends as the two of them could be.

“Will you help me?” she asked, managing to sound bored instead of anxious. If she had sounded anxious to him, she would lose his respect. He could read it on her face, vocal confirmation was unnecessary.  

“I will always be here to help you Regina,” he told her, sounding more honest than she’d expected, “but a curse this dark is dangerous.”

“I don’t care,” she all but growled, letting her emotions then get the better of her. She was tired of people telling her what she already knew, tired of their eyes focusing on her in judgement. Looking up, she glared at him. “I want what by right, should be mine.” 

“Passion rules reason, for better or for worse, Regina,” he told her curtly. Regina scowled and rose from the chair. Turning his head, Darken quietly stared at her, almost daring for her to raise her hand and strike him, magically or otherwise. Instead, she clenched her hand by her side and rose her head high.

“I didn’t come here to be insulted and reminded of your land’s wizard rules,” she said, mocking the words. “I came for help because I thought you would be more civil.”

“I don’t need to be civil, least of all with you, Regina. I know you too well for that.” Her eyes narrowed threateningly at him as he turned his back on her, “however, I have agreed to help you, and help you I will. You and I have a long standing history. Try as we might, it’d be better if I were to help you now than watch you go to Rumpelstiltskin and ask for his help. His dealings seem to have a...more chaotic result. I have a far better solution.”

Regina carefully considered what he was saying, before slowly asking, “then what do you want?”

“What your after isn’t a curse Regina.”

“Then do tell me what I’m after, because obviously I don’t know,” she snapped as her patience wore thin.

He chuckled then, facing her completely as he stepped forward. “Tell me, what do you know of the Boxes of Orden?” 


	2. Chapter One

_The People’s Palace, D’Hara,_

 

Regina’s eyes ran over the inscription before looking up at the Mord-Sith. Berdine had been placed to guide her to the library and then apparently teach her. “Why does Rahl want me to learn D’Haran?” she asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Berdine tilted her head. Regina watched the dark brown braid slide from her shoulder at the movement. She enjoyed the fact that the Mord-Sith were all very uniformed. It was easy to spot them in battle. Clothed in blood with tight expressions gave bone-chilling first appearances. But Regina knew all too well that skills in pain gave them an equal set in pleasure.

“High D’Haran will give you an advantage in the magic of our land,” Berdine informed her, “Many of the books in the Wizards Keeps are written in High D’Haran. At your request for the books, he found it important that you learnt as he did. This way you, yourself can read the books and know that myself or others are not misdirecting you with false translations.” 

Regina smiled widely, “so he’s doing this to give me a sense of control?” She chuckled lowly before bring the cup of tea to her lips. Berdine shifted on her feet, looking over to Raina briefly before back to the Queen. 

“Does that displease you, your grace?”

“Not at all. It amuses me.” She placed cup down onto its saucer. With a single gesture, the chair beside her slid away from the desk. “Do sit down, my dear. There’s no point in you hovering over my shoulder.”

Berdine nodded before placing herself down beside her. Quickly the lesson began, starting with absolute basics that Regina had already self-taught. With Berdine, however, Regina knowledge grew faster. The woman’s methods didn’t always coincide with hers, however, Regina easily took on the teachings and then manipulated to suit her own learning methods.

The lessons were only broken when Regina called for a small break of tea or food. Inviting both Berdine and Raina to speak.

“Rahl often speaks to the both of you, does he not?”

“He does, though his are usually brief,” Raina said. Though Regina had invited her to sit down, hopefully to put them on the same footing, Raina had resisted and remained standing at her post. “Though we have no doubt that the only reason you are speaking to us is to learn information on Lord Rahl.” 

Regina smirked, the women were as clever as she’d been informed. There was no denying that she knew she was above status to them, but she was also aware that treating them like common slaves would only work against her. “It’s true,” she confirmed. There was no use lying. “Though, Cara speaks highly of you.”

“Cara is your...advisor?” Berdine asked carefully, keeping her expression masked. Regina eyed her carefully before stirring the tea in grip to think over her reply. 

“She explains to me how the Midlands work and has attempted to teach me her knowledge on the world. Her patience is best suited for battle or bed,” she shrugged. “She is, as all Mord-Sith are, highly proficient in both.”

“Cara is one of Lord Rahl’s favorites,” Berdine said, “he wasn’t happy when you took her from him.” Regina’s smiled widened at the memory. He had Cara and Garen by his sides and had lead out Dahlia’s team of women at the time. Instead of choosing those beneath Dahlia, Regina had taken Cara and Garen" 

With a short, “ _You said I could have any of the Mord-Sith present, didn’t you?”_

“Perhaps we should return to the lesson?” Berdine said, growing uncomfortable with the questions. 

When evening came, a small servant boy entered the library and bowed lowly. “My Lord requests the Queen joins him for dinner.”

“Inform him I’ll be there soon.” The rest of the lessons had gone smoothly. With the threat of her magic being captured looming over her, her temper was kept under control. Rahl would stand for a lot, but he would not allow her to mistreat his Mord-Sith. She had no intention of doing so, anyway.

“Will you be joining us?” she asked out of curiosity. She had no idea what the Mord-Sith did here. Cara, Garen and Dahlia often joined herself for dinner, and why not? But Rahl had different views and opinions on the women.

“No,” Berdine replied. “We will remain here until we’re dismissed by our Mistress.”

“And who’s that?" 

“Mistress Denna. She is here with new Sisters.”

“New sisters? What are they here for?” 

“They will be placed beneath us in status to be taught discipline within the People’s Palace until they’re directed otherwise. To be placed here shows great promise in their first year at the temple after breaking.” 

Regina nodded. “Tomorrow we’ll continue, then?” she asked. Berdine agreed quickly, rising from the chair and falling back into formation beside Raina. On earlier questioning, Regina had found that no one else had permission to enter Lord Rahl’s private library, and although guardsmen usually stood outside some of the other private areas, those with magical artifacts were guarded only by Mord-Sith.

Rising herself, she smoothed down her skirts and departed the room, hearing the door close behind her. The hallway was cooler than the private library. Made of dark stones and void of any fireplace. Her steps echoed around her, informing guards ahead of time of her arrival. Immediately, they were all stiff and in place as she walked past, but she had little doubt that like her own men, their shoulders would relax once her shadow has faded down the hall.

Rahl stood by the fireplace when she entered the room, and turned to smile at her, unclasping his hands.

“Glad you could join us,” he said with a curt nod. Lifting a hand, he directed her attention to the small dining table. Regina’s eyes ran over the decor of the table before noticing the choice of wine.

A small laugh slipped into the warm air. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

“Perhaps I’ve grown bored of my usual bed companions.”

Regina smirked, eyeing him curiously before turning her gaze to the two Mord-Sith present in the room. Neither of them took notice of the comment. 

Sitting herself down, she immediately ignored all table manners and poured . As he followed suit and placed himself across from her, Regina grasped at her goblet of wine. “Is it true that a confessor came into one of your private libraries and stole a book from you?” she asked.

Darken Rahl’s eyes looked up, warning Regina briefly before he poured himself wine. “Yes. A confessor broke in, killing four of my guards, and two Mord-Sith. However, she’s no longer a problem.”

“The confessor is dead, and yet you didn’t find the book?”

“No. I did not. Are you trying to make a point Regina?” She shrugged, leaning back in the seat. The truth was, she had need his confirmation that a book was stolen. If his forces weren’t impenetrable against a single woman, then it would explain his sudden hospitality to her. Especially the choice of wine.

“Which book?”

“The Book of Counted Shadows.” 

Regina paused, eyes looking up at him. “Is that why you’ve been so accommodating to me?” she asked, “because you know that I have the ‘arcane knowledge’ that you desire?”

“It has come to my attention that my forces could use a witch’s hand. You are one of the most powerful witches of your time. How else did you manage to break through your mother’s spell and push her into the looking glass?” Regina looked away, scowling at the memory. It was usually an unspoken rule that neither brought up the past. “I need someone of your ruthlessness on my side, Regina. And you need me.”  

She clutched the goblet tighter in her grip. “I didn’t kill _my_ mother.”  

“No, you did something much worse and locked her away for all eternity. Not that it changed anything for you. You still remained locked in that palace, did you not?” She could feel Rahl’s glare, hot on her skin. She’d surpassed the line. Dropping the wine glass, she turned back and looked at him. 

“Perhaps it’s time you explained exactly what you want from me. I’ve made myself perfectly clear, after all.”

Rahl brought his goblet to his lips, taking a moment to hold the pause between them. Only when he placed the wine down did he look back to Regina. “I need your assistance in a delicate matter,” he informed her smoothly.

“I see,” Regina said, curiosity soothing her resentment. Before anything further could be said, the first course was brought in and served to them. Cutting into the food, she looked at Rahl with an arched eyebrow. “Has this to do with Book of Counted Shadows?”

“No. It has to do with branches of prophecy concerning one of us. Long ago I adverted a prophecy from a true Seeker coming into power. However, it has come to my attention that another child will be born soon, and they will rise to overthrow the kingdoms in power. Perhaps only if they’re brought up with the morals of their parents, but who’s to know?”

Regina blinked. “And what? You wish to steal this child and place it in an unfriendly household. Perhaps you are the tyrant your people speak of.”

He chuckled at her comment. “You and I both know who we are. However, I have little doubt that you would ignore such a prophecy since it affects the dear Snow White you are fond of.”

Regina’s eyes snapped to him. “Snow White?”

The immediate reaction set Darken Rahl’s smile wider. The unadulterated loathing that contorted not only Regina’s expression, but her entire body, was something delicious to observe. Her shoulders would snap back and her neck raise. He especially enjoyed how her eyes snapped and narrowed in accusation at the name.

“The child is born by ‘true love’, isn’t that a form of magic in your land that is so powerful that it has the ability to break any spell?”

“Not all magic can be broken,” Regina replied shortly. Her jaw clenched shut and a particular vein pulsed threateningly as though magic coursed through it. Regina took a breath, controlled her anger and partially relaxed her body. “It would be presumptuous to assume that it could _only_ be Snow White’s child. Magic sweeps across both our lands and more.” 

 Rahl’s smile widened only further. “She is however, the only one of true love who’s ‘life was hunted by a dark queen’.” Regina blinked, amused at been titled a dark queen in prophecy. “A step down from the Evil Queen title, but all things considered, it’s safe to assume that Snow White’s child will have to be killed. 

“You _are_ seducing me,” she smirked. “Taking Snow White’s child will eternally leave her in misery, wether we kill the child or leave it in an orphanage.” 

“I would prefer to ensure the child’s death,” he informed her. “But we can discuss methods another day.” 

Regina smiled at him. Feeling her heart beat faster as she pictured Snow White’s expression. Perhaps this would bring her the happiness she wanted. Revenge with Snow White. Her eyes closed briefly, taking another drink of wine before finish the first course. The rest of the meal was finished with lighter conversation about politics and their reputation over the lands.  

Eventually the two of them rose, settling by the fire with the last of the wine in grip.

Regina stood watching the flames. From behind her, she felt Rahl step closer and place a familiar hand on her waist. “It’s been a while since you were in my bed,” he spoke softly, placing a kiss against her jawline. Regina’s eyes shut as she arched against him, feeling his hand slide around to the front of her dress, stretching over stomach.

“The last time you were in my bed,” she replied, “was when you came to my castle to find magic to tear down the boundary between D’Hara and the Midlands.” 

In truth, he had come to search her books, knowing she had a particular interest in mastering certain aspects of dark magic. It had been fortunate Regina already knew the particular weakness of that magic, saving him time and allowing a far more eventful stay at her castle.

“Of course it was. But you make it sound as though I was not requested there. Did I not solve an unfortunate problem you had at the time?” 

Regina hummed shortly in reply. Taking a step forward, she turned around to face Rahl. “Are we going to play games again?” she asked. “I prove I’m above you, you prove you’re above me. We have a fun, but tiresome power play that eventually leads to your room. How about we change it up this time and go straight to the bed.”

He pressed closer, laughing lowly at her, “does wine make you impatient Regina?” Before she could speak, he had his lips pressed against hers. Regina hands grabbed his robes, annoyed at his tactics before she broke away. She paused to look at him before pushing him back to arm chair by the fire, climbing on top of him. 

Perhaps she did enjoy the power play. The delicate games with knives running over skin, teeth against flesh, nails ripping apart clothes as they fought over and over again. Sex with Rahl was a battle and neither one seemed to win. But they didn’t play to win. 

.

 

 


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Emma runs from an event with Richard, a stranger arrives in the Westlands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A quick update. Yes, I've been cut off mostly from my internet so I'm doing ALL the writing ;)

_Westlands, the Woods outside of Hartland,_

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be rebuilding a bridge?” Emma asked, mouth filled with the apple she’d taken from his pocket. Swallowing, she took another bite of the apple, as she stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

Richard laughed, “I was before you turned up. Aren’t you supposed to be doing _your_ job?”

Emma shrugged, leaning back on one of the logs he was midway through axing down to size. Beside her, Richard took out his waterskin and sighed as it met his lips. Emma watched him amused before he pulled back and relaxed against the log.  

“Have you ever wondered what’s beyond on the boundary?” she asked him. “I mean, I know the legends and all of that, but have you ever wondered what’s _really_ outthere?”

“Magic,” he laughed. Emma pulled a face. “No really, isn’t that the stories? That we divided from them because we didn’t want a part of magical war. There’s a whole civilization behind there, living without us. Dragons, and witches and all that.” 

Emma’s eyes narrowed, “Yes and the crazy old man who talks to his chickens is a wizard sent to watch over us all!” Richard pushed her away playfully. Emma scowled until he kissed her cheek. Then it became harder to remember what the conversation had been about in the first place.

Quietly, she cursed herself. It’d been an innocent kiss with no intent behind it except to soothe her scowl. He’d always done it since she was little.

“There’s enough stories from back then,” he informed her. “Every story has to start somewhere and is based off some truth, right? Besides, the boundary magic its self, so there has to be magic out there.” Emma’s expression shifted in thought. She didn’t know what to think of that. To her, the boundary was shards of green light or water that she’d never seen up close. For all she knew it _was_ solid. 

People didn’t go near the boundary. It was dangerous. Too many times had people ventured too close only to be never seen again. No. That wasn’t magic though. There were dark beasts that lurked near the boundary, according to their father.

Richard watched as she took another bite of the apple, contemplating the boundary. “That was mine,” he said slowly.

Emma’s eyes snapped to him, “mine now,” she grinned, taking another bite. “Shhame...” she said, mouth full. “I’s weally goof.” Richard made a snatch at her. Quickly, Emma jumped away, stuffing her face with as much as the apple she could before tossing the core. Munching on the ridiculous amount of apple in her mouth, she grinned proudly at him. 

“That’s disgusting. You have juices running down your face!”

“Youh disgus’n,” she said, using the back of her hand to wipe away the mess. 

“That doesn’t...even...” he sighed, trailing off with a dismissive shake of his head. When she swallowed the last of the apple, a grin spread over his features before he tackled her. Emma shrieked as she was pushed to the ground. 

“Get off you big oaf,” she giggled, attempting to push him off. “You way a ton!” 

“ _You_ should be working,” he said before grabbing her wrists and pinning them down. He laughed at her attempt to struggle. “Remember? You’re supposed to be helping people.” Emma stopped wriggling beneath him, and looked up at his eyes. Richard too paused as he noticed how close they were, how much he was pressed against her.

He could feel her chest rising against his in breath. Her hair was mussed amongst the dead leaves and twigs, eyes stark blue against the browns. Richard took a breath, almost wanting to lean in closer.

Emma swallowed dryly. “We said we wouldn’t do this any more,” she breathed out. 

“I know.” 

“I should move,” he said softly. His words brushed against her and inadvertently, Emma almost arched towards him. 

“I can’t,” she whispered. He blinked at her. Emma shut her eyes, shaking her head to clear it. “I can’t...keep doing this. Richard. Please.” At her plead, he stood up quickly, holding out a hand to help her. Emma ignored it, pushing herself up onto her feet. “I have to go,” she muttered, dragging a hand through her tangled hair.

She could feel leaves tangled amongst the mess.

“Emma-”

“I have a job. As do you,” she nodded towards the half built bridge. Richard’s shoulders dropped and defeated, he nodded. Emma was right. They shouldn’t be playing around, not like that. They were siblings after all. Twins according to his father. Though they looked as similar as a rose and an apple. 

“I’ll see you back home then?” he could help but have hope slip into his words. The last time something happened, something big, she’d ran off for so long that everyone had assumed she was dead. He tried to stay away from her, never allow that to happen again. But when she smiled, it became harder to remember it was his sister.

“Yes. Of course. You’re cooking tonight, though.” She turned away from him, dusting at the dirt on the brown leather pants, before walking away. 

Emma and Richard’s relationship was complicated. She knew how she _should_ feel and she knew how she _did_ feel. The worst part of it was it would have been easier if Richard didn’t feel the same way. 

She’d tried to repress her emotions, curse herself over and over again in her mind about how she should feel towards her brother. But then Richard would take her hand or smile at her in such a completely special way that she felt her heart pounding in her chest again so loud, he might hear it. 

Emma folded her arms close to her body, feeling cold despite the warm weather. When she was sure she was a far enough distance from Richard, she pressed against a particularly large tree. Her legs trembled as she tried to forget how warm Richard had been, how his laugh had vibrated through his body and into hers. 

No. This wasn’t the time. 

A crunching noise caught her attention. Looking up, Emma watched in the distance, through a grove of trees, as a woman ran through the woods. Her eyes watched, mesmerized by white flowing dress, the long sleeves that twisted in the wind, and dark hair that danced behind the woman, moving as weightless as the white dress.

It was only a few moments after watching, did Emma notice the men in armor, a fair amount of paces back, chasing the mysterious woman. Emma’s brain clicked, guessing the situation as she stumbled to her feet. 

With her mind racing, she chased after the woman, darting through trees and taking a shortcut to cross paths. Emma knew the Hartland woods better than she knew herself. It was only moments before she was ahead.

Crouching down low, beside the raised path she knew the woman would run, Emma waited. It was only seconds before the woman ran past and just as quickly, Emma tackled her off the incline and into bushes on the other side.

Painfully they landed in the plant. The woman gasped and Emma’s hand slammed onto the woman’s mouth, pressing tight against her. It was difficult to remain still with twigs and leaves pushing through the leather, but Emma held firm even as the woman looked up at her afraid. “ _Shh_ ,” she tried but the woman squirmed insistently, glaring up at her determined and terrified.

She could fell the woman’s hand moving between them, scrambling to grab a hold of her and push Emma off her self. 

Emma ignored the hands, pressing tighter before looking through the bushes they’d fallen into, to make sure the men hadn’t seen them. The woman struggled beneath her before quickly becoming still as she worked out what was happening. Slowly, Emma removed her weight from woman’s body and watched as the men chased past, shouting they’d seen her head into the thicket of trees in the distance. 

When she was sure they’d left, Emma rose, peaking her head out to make sure before grabbing the woman arm and lifting her up through the bush to avoid the worst of the twigs that scratched at them. 

Just as quickly as Emma freed the woman, a dagger was pulled on her, pressed against her neck. Emma flicked her eyes to to the woman, her fear of situation clear on her face as she stared into the blazing blue eyes. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked in a whisper, staring down at the hand pressing the dagger to her throat. “I was only trying to help.”

The dagger dropped to the woman’s side and slowly she pulled away, looking away from Emma. “I’m just...not used to people touching me.”

Emma frowned. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, smiling politely. “You looked like you needed to get away from them. They were armed and...” she trailed off, listening as the men shout in the distance. “We should move before they realize what’s happened.” She made a grab for the woman’s wrist before the hand was snatched back.

Emma eyed it before nodding. “Right. The no-touching thing,” she murmured. “Sorry. It was just on thought. I didn’t-”

“I can handle myself,” the woman replied sharply. 

“I’m only trying to help,” Emma defended.

“I don’t need your help.”

Insulted, Emma growled, “It didn’t seem like that before when I saved your life.” The woman’s eyes snapped to hers, glaring hotly as she adjusted her dress and pulled out from the bushes. “Why were those men chasing you then?” 

“Follow me and you’ll find out,” the woman warned. Emma set her jaw, biting back any unkind words as the woman stalked off. She watched her briefly leave, before turning to move herself. As odd as the situation had been, she didn’t want to be around when the soldiers came back to search for the woman.

For all she knew, the woman _was_ dangerous.

Her foot, however, had become caught. Looking down to understand, Emma frowned at what she saw. A vine had wrapped around her foot, tangling her to the dirt. Pulling out the knife from her boot, Emma knelt to slice the plant from her shoe.

The vine moved of it’s own accord, its unblossomed flower acting like a snake’s head as it leapt forward and bit down on her hand. “What the-” 

Snapping back, Emma frantically stomped on what had bitten her, dropping the knife as she pulled the hand defensively to her chest. When the plant appeared to be dead she looked down. Her eyes peering as she lifted her boot, believing momentarily that it _had_ been a snake. However, nothing but plant matter, the remnants of a vine, lay beneath her heel.

She blinked and looked down to her bitten hand before she picked her knife up from where it’d fallen. Two puncture marks, oozing clear substance, began to swell in her hand. 

“Fantastic,” she muttered dryly, “what a wonderful day it’s been for me.” With a final glance at the plant, she picked up the husk of its remains and headed back to her house to clean the wound on her hand and have her father’s opinion on it.

It was only a half hour walk home. Her hand swelled and her stomach turned uneasy at it, but nothing more seemed to happen to suggest any serious poison. Emma knew well enough, however, that whatever it was, the swelling was not a good sign. If she had turned to talk to Richard, he might have had an idea of how serious it was, but stomach had knotted tightly at the idea of talking to him after the event. 

“Dad?” she called, opening the back door into her home. “Dad, are you-”

“Emma!” Her dad turned, grinning. “I’m beating your brother,” he paused momentarily and stared at the game board, “perhaps not,” he murmured soon after, adjusting his piece.  

Emma walked down the stairs from the entrance to the main part of the house, blinking dizzily as the poison began to affect her stronger. It’d been foolish to think the plant was innocent, she realized. “Dad...”

He looked up at her, expression melting away. “What’s happened?”

Emma shook her head, taking the last step down, “Something strange happened. There was this woman, and she was getting chased. I helped her but the men are still chasing us, her and-”

“Calm down,” her father interrupted. Emma went quiet, swallowing as she clutched her injured hand. “Sit down, and tell me _slowly_ what happened.” 

Emma walked over and took a seat across from her father, cradling the hand as she recalled the events to him. Slowly, dizziness began to sweep over her. “I need...I need a healer,” she murmured. Her father looked down at the hand. Before he could see it, she dropped it into her lap. A part of her was afraid of what he’d say. “That woman...the vine. There’s no magic this side of the boundary,” she said softly. 

She didn’t voice her disbelief of magic itself. Even with a vine biting her hand as if possessed by a serpent; the belief of actual _magic,_ let alone on this side of the boundary, was impossible.

Her father frowned deeply, all humor that usually washed over his face infectiously became replaced by intense worry. “Those people you saw, that girl? They’re from the Midlands.”

Emma’s head snapped up at her father. A disbelieving smile curved her lips. “No,” she laughed. “That can’t be right,” she said insistently at her father’s humorless face stared back at her. “No one’s crossed the boundary since it was first put up. You said so yourself that not even an _insect_ has ever passed it.” 

“I was a fool to think this day would never come,” he murmured dismissively.

“Dad...” Emma reached out with her good hand, placing it over his, “What’s wrong? What day has come?” He turned, taking the hand and looked at her regretfully. Emma shifted uncomfortably, allowing her father to find the words. She could see it painted on his face, held in his throat unspoken. He had the same expression before he told her, Michael and Richard that their mother hadn’t survived.

“Emma, you know I love you?”

“Dad, of course,” she said, smiling at him. Her father didn’t return it, and quickly it faded on her own face. She became scared of the unsaid words. “What’s this about?”

The sound of distant hoofbeats cut off whatever her father had to say. He jolted from the table and turned to the front door. His steps rushed as he opened the wooden slot to peer through towards the sound. Just as quickly, he shut the slot and turned back to Emma. “You have to leave. Now.” He forced her from the chair before she could protest, and pushed her to the stairs.

“What? Where-?” 

“Blackthorn Hill. Find Zed.”

“The crazy old men?” she protested, stopping at the stairs to turn to her father. “He talks to his chickens and-”

Her father grabbed her suddenly, pulling her in tight for a last hug. “You have to go,” he said, holding her in his arms. Emma’s shoulders dropped, allowing him to hug her. It’d been years since he’d hugged her like this. Terror flooded her, washing all defiance away.

Her father pulled away fast from the arriving noise outside. “Now,” he demanded, giving her a last shove up the stairs. 

She stumbled back, staring at his eyes before the sounds of steps came towards the house, pounding like her heart. She knew how serious the situation was, even if she couldn’t comprehend what was happening. 

Emma ran up the stairs, giving a last look back at her father before she left through the back door, and exited the house unknowingly, for the last time. 


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding the First Wizard, Kahlan asks to be taken to the Seeker, only to be told they're a lot closer than she expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the dialogue is straight from 1x01 Prophecy. So...no ownership of anything recognised obviously. Apologies for this though. There should only be one other that will have dialogue closely related, then it'll be back to all my original...ness.

_Westlands, Blackthorn Hill_

 

The sun had almost set as Kahlan drew close. The Night Wisp, Shar, went quiet as Kahlan walked up to the elderly man, perched on the edge of the hill. Long grey hair drifted in the light wind as he muttered on about the clouds and what they meant, to the chicken in his hands. It was difficult to believe that _this_ was the great wizard. 

Kahlan pulled her shoulders back, standing every inch the Confessor she was. Spine straightened, jaw out, she stared at the back of the wizard, who was standing stark naked for all the world, and Kahlan, to see. “I need your help, wizard,” she said to him, her voice hardened and controlled. He froze at her words.

“Sorry,” he spoke in a raised voice. “I’m as deaf peach! And as naked as a baby bird...” he turned to face her, hiding as much he could with the chicken in front of him. Kahlan barely blinked, holding eye-contact. She’d seen far stranger in the Midlands. “What did you say?” he asked.

“I asked the great wizard, Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander, for his assistance.” Her tone, silkened with humor to begin with, slowly became serious and brittle by the last syllable. Everything she’d been through washed over her, weighing down on her shoulders as she looked up at the Wizard of the First Order. She wanted nothing more than to be curled up in bed, with her sister still alive.

She’d settle for just her sister being alive.

“No,” Zedd spoke softly, “I think you have me confused with somebody else.”

Kahlan almost laughed. “There’s no confusion. I had help finding you.” Slowly she raised clasped to silver chain in grip, lifting the glass bottle, and showed him the blue glow of the Night Wisp. His expression shifted from fear, to defeat. His lips then pursued petulantly at her. Wizards didn’t like to be proven wrong.

Kahlan smiled, trying to hide her pride in outsmarting him. It was rare to outsmart a wizard, and almost unheard of doing so to one of the First Order. 

Slowly he stepped down from his rock and placed the chicken (Clara) down onto the dirt before he picked up his clothes. “Well. It was good while it lasted,” he said, as he placed his tunic back on. Kahlan adverted her gaze until he finished dressing. “A nice, _quiet_ couple of decades.”

“Your time is up. Bring me to the seeker.” He looked at her for a moment, holding her gaze with a determined look. Kahlan could read his undeniable dislike of her, but it didn’t matter. She hadn’t come here to be liked. She had a mission to fulfill, a prophecy. Too much had been sacrificed to just give up.

Zedd didn’t have time to protest. At the sound of a horse trot, he looked behind her. Turning around to source of the noise, Kahlan watched as the girl who’d tackled her into the bushes earlier, rode up. Her blonde hair a mess, plastered to her forehead with sweat as the horse trotted up to the house.

Something was wrong. The blonde cradled her had to her chest and rode the horse drunkly. With heavy breaths she stopped the horse, swaying in the saddle as she tried to sit up. Her gaze fell on Kahlan is a slow double-take. “You...” she murmured thickly. Kahlan watched, horrified as the woman’s eyes rolled back and she fell from the horse.

“Emma!” Zedd shouted. “Quick, get her inside.” 

Kahlan was quick to follow, helping the wizard to lift the blonde up from the ground and take her inside his small abode. 

“What is it?” she asked as Zedd directed Emma around the singular room and onto the bed in the far corner.

“Powerful magic,” he murmured. “A poisonous plant brought over from the Midlands.” Kahlan felt her stomach turn uneasily at his words. If the girl died, was it because of her doing? Had she brought over the plant?

“Hold her down,” Zedd instructed.

Kahlan’s hand brushed back the blonde hair before Zedd placed the infected hand into her grip. There she could see the swollen puncture marks. Many in the midlands had died from such terrible plants. Villages would burn great areas to stop them from growing. It was only in unpopulated areas did they grow so wild and dangerous, left untamed.

But for all she knew, the men chasing after her had brought the plant to capture her.

Zeddicus’s hands moved in formation, forming an unseen spell as old words slipped from his mouth. Kahlan held down Emma, feeling her struggle slowly, her expression shifting as the fever grew dangerous. 

Kahlan didn’t speak, knowing that interrupting a curse or spell midway had unforeseeable results. Instead she looked down at Emma’s face, wondering if she had a family; a mother who loved her, a sister who would die for her. It was so easy now, in the face of death, to see that other people had lives, families.

For just a moment, she doubted her quest. She’d brought horror into the Westlands, magic that those here had barricaded themselves from.

But with the Evil Queen coming through the portal into D’Hara, her own force and magic aligned with Rahl, was truly and unforeseeable strength of wicked that would wreak havoc over all the lands. Eventually the Westlands too, would have been enslaved into their dark magic. She was doing good, she knew she was.

Otherwise Dennee had died for nothing.

The air grew thin as magic intensified. Kahlan could feel the hair on the back of her neck raising with the electricity. Emma convulsed beneath her, breath tight as her eyes squeezed shut. Kahlan turned to look at the hand, watching as the dark magic slid like a mist from the infection and leapt out.

Kahlan jumped back, afraid to swallow the curse, before it dispersed into the air with a final hiss.

Beneath her hand, Emma’s body relaxed, her face smoothing over in calm as she finally took another breath. Kahlan smiled softly, pushing back the hair. “Her fever’s broken,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder to Zedd. The wizard sighed in relief. “Now take me to the Seeker,” she said, pulling away.

Turning, she went to grab supplies for a journey to wherever the Seeker was kept. Instead, Zedd’s whispered, “She’s here.”

With a snap she turned around, looking to Emma before looking elsewhere, as if someone else may appear from the singular-roomed house, with a proud stance and a charming smile, claiming to be the Seeker. No one did. Kahlan’s eyes again went to Emma and then back to Zedd. 

“Her?” she exclaimed. She almost laughed, stepping close to the girl. The blonde was nothing like how she had imagined the Seeker. There was nothing at all brilliant about her. She was perfectly normal. “But she’s-”

“What? Not good enough?” Zedd demanded. “You wanted a Seeker. Well, there she is.” Kahlan fell back, eyeing Emma with distrust. Surely this was a joke. Surely _she_ couldn’t be the Seeker. “If she’s not up to your standard,” Zedd continued, “Well that’s fine by me. Find yourself another.”

Kahlan stared at him. How was this...how was _she..._

“...Seeker?” Emma murmured drunkly, eyes opening. “What are you talking about?”

It took a few moments for the words to settle over Kahlan before she turned to the wizard, mouth agape in horror. “You never told her?” she asked. Fury built up inside her, Dennee’s death flashing before her eyes as Zedd dropped his gaze. “You were supposed to train her, prepare her. What have you been _doing_ for the last twenty years?” she demanded.

Zedd looked up at her, eyes sharp, “Letting her catch worms, climb trees and skin her knees. Find out what makes her heart beat faster.”

Kahlan could hear a roar in her ears. Slowly she clenched her hands, glaring over the table that Zedd stood behind as he diligently cleaned up the mess. 

“My sister gave her _life_ to make sure that I got here,” she said disgusted. “To make sure that _I_ put the book in the _Seeker’s_ hands! And he’s catching worms?” her words thundered in her chest, projected out with a hot glare.

Unaffected, Zeddicus looked up at her, “I never knew a great man or woman who didn’t have a little dirt under their nails.”

Kahlan shook her head, “and while she wass getting her nails dirty, did it ever occur to you to give her the slightest inclining that she is the first true Seeker in the last _thousand_ years?” her words turned desperate, almost begging him to turn around and say ‘ _fooled you!_ Of course I told her!’ He didn’t. “She has a destiny!”

“Who are you to decides one’s destiny?”

“It’s not me, it’s the prophecy,” she said lowly.

“Prophecy be damned!” He threw the rag in his hand down to the ground. Kahlan barely jumped back at the raised voice. “I adverted the prophecy when I brought her here. Until _you_ opened up a nice little door in the boundary, and said ‘ _Right this way to the Seeker Ladies and Gentlemen!’_ ” He mimicked. 

Kahlan glared, insulted. Opening her mouth, she went to defend herself.

“Stop!” Emma demanded, sitting up from the bed. Her head pounded at the movement, but instead of protesting, she asked: “What are you talking about?”

Kahlan looked at her sadly before turning back to Zedd, “if you were so sure you adverted the prophecy, that she was going to live a nice, peaceful life, then why did you stay near her all these years.” Zedd’s jaw shut tightly, face masked. Kahlan looked back just as determined. “Tell her the truth, tell her who she is.”

Zedd remained still for a pause longer before he sighed, giving in to the inevitable. Walking around the table, he stepped closer to Emma.

The blonde looked at him, eyes flicking to Kahlan momentarily. “What’s a seeker?”

Zedd smiled grimly, “First you need to know about a man named Darken Rahl. If he is a man at all and not some twisted race of evil, brought forth from the Underworld to shatter the hopes and dreams of humankind.” Emma looked up at him, confused. 

Kahlan didn’t voice that another woman, just as twisted as Darken Rahl, had joined the allegiance. There would be time for that later. 

“Twenty-three years ago, a great prophet spoke on his death bed, of the birth of a true Seeker,” Zedd continued, “a child whose destiny would be to seek out and kill the greatest evil of all: Darken Rahl. With his last breath, the prophet named the town in which the child would appear. Rahl sent his assassins. They murdered every first-born child in the town, save you and your brother. I took you from your mother. She was weak, the birth had been a difficult one-”

"That’s impossible,” Emma interrupted. “We were born here in Hartland.”

Zedd paused again, swallowing uncomfortably, “George and Mary Cypher loved you and your brother, as if you were their own, but you are not there’s by blood.” Emma’s jaw tightened, defiantly. 

“I don’t believe you,” she glared. 

Zedd dismissed the comment, continuing with his story. “I crossed the boundary, at night unseen. Your brother and you were held close in my arms. For weeks I watched, listened and read the clouds. I came to know that in all the world, there was no one more kinder than George and Mary Cypher. I told them your story and they took you into their home and in their hearts. Now if I live to be a thousand years old, I’ll never make a wiser choice than picking them for the job.”

Kahlan shifted nervously at the story. Adverting her eyes away from Zedd, she turned and watched Emma’s reaction. The blonde nodded, but it was clear she didn’t believe what she’d been told. Even to Kahlan, who knew the story to be true, found it difficult to believe that that was exactly how it’d happened.

“So,” Emma said, eyebrow’s raised. “According to this... _fantasy._ Who’s my real father?”

“I don’t know,” Zedd replied, seeing what Kahlan had already seen on Emma’s face. She didn’t believe a word of it. Couldn’t believe it.

“Then why, if you were such good friends with my parents, did I never see you with them? Why haven’t you talk to them-?” 

“I kept myself apart,” Zedd defended. “Close enough to keep watch over you, but far enough away that if Darken Rahl found his way to me, I wouldn’t be a blazing arrow pointing the way to you.” He turned then to look at Kahla then, “Apparently that’s what Confessor’s are for.”

Emma blinked, looking from Zedd to Kahlan. She paused on Kahlan, remembering how she’d tackled her into the bushes before the woman had pushed her away with a warning glare. “Confessors?” she asked. 

Kahlan turned, swallowing as she smiled softly. Emma smiled back automatically, forgetting how hard the woman had been before. 

“An ancient order of women sworn to find the truth, no matter how hard people may try to hide it.” Emma watched her carefully, eyes holding steady to bright blue eyes. “And if the Seeker should arise, to protect them with her life.” Emma studied her carefully, unsure of what to make of her. Kahlan dropped her hands to her side, shoulders relaxing. “My name’s Kahlan,” she said softly. “I’m sorry for threatening you today. You saved my life and I was ungrateful in my reaction.”

Emma smiled at her softly. Before she then remembered the men who had come through the woods, chasing after her. Emma’s eyes dropped suddenly as she took in the moment. If they had followed through to stop Kahlan, then perhaps the Seeker did exist...

But they were confused. It was someone else. Someone who _had_ been brought over from the boundary. George and Mary _were_ her parents. 

Kahlan swallowed at the silence, “I came here to bring you this,” she reached beneath the layers of the white dress, pulling out her brown, leather pack. Opening it, a small book slid into her hand before she walked over to Emma and slowly placed it in her hands.

“A book?” Emma asked skeptically. 

“Not just any book,” Kahlan replied, “it’s the Book of Counted Shadows.” Emma raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “For a thousand years it’s been kept safe in the Wizard’s Keep, in Aydindril. However, Darken Rahl’s broke through the last of our defenses to claim the book. We...escaped.”

“Why?” Emma asked.

Zedd rose, “because the book contains the secrets of power.”

“And if Darken Rahl gets it, he will use it to claim control over every corner of the world,” Kahlan’s voice hardened as she tried to push the necessity of the book into Emma’s mind. “We would _all_ become his slaves.”

Emma’s ran eyes from the book up to Kahlan slowly, studying them both. What Zedd and the woman had said was fantastical, but also impossible. How could a book hold such knowledge to power? 

“If all that power existed within pages, wouldn’t more have tried to claim the book before Darken Rahl?” she asked.

“Many have tried,” Kahlan replied softly, “but no one had the combined resources of Darken Rahl and...the Queen.”

“The Queen?” Emma asked. Zedd too stared at Kahlan.

“I don’t think Rahl would have done it without her,” Kahlan replied. “She’s not from the Midlands, or D’Hara. She’s from another place where magic is stronger...rampant in the lands as it once was in ours. She brought things, dark things with her to help Rahl. They’re...aligned. At first, when she arrived, no one thought anything of it. We didn’t understand the grande limits of her power. She didn’t have an army, not like Rahl.”

“Does she want to enslave all of the lands as well?” Emma asked.

“No...maybe. We don’t know. She wants revenge or something. No one knows for sure what she’s gaining from the alliance. An army perhaps? It’s hard to say, there are very few  people that the Queen talks to. Rahl is the only one who knows her true intentions, I believe.” Kahlan placed the book in Emma’s hands. “This book will help you. The prophecy says the Seeker will use the book in their quest to defeat Rahl,” she spoke softly.

“Read it,” Zedd demanded.

Emma took the book, small for its size, thin and weathered. It was difficult to imagine something that look so insignificant, held such arcane powers. Opening it, Emma looked down to reveal strange symbols on the first page. She  paused for a moment, blinking at it confused. “Maybe this ‘seeker’ knows the language,” she said shrugging, before closing the book and looking up at them. “I don’t know it. You have me confused with someone else.”

“Try,” Kahlan said as she pushed the book back into her hands .

Scoffing, Emma narrowed her eyes before looking back down to the book. Only to prove a point did she stare at the symbols, but slowly, she found them making sense. They weren’t _words_ like she knew from books she read as a child growing up. It was different, complex. But as she continue to stare, it begun to make more sense. 

“The truth...of the words...of the Book of...Counted Shadows,” she spoke slowly as her mind transcribed what she was reading, “can only be assured...by a Confessor.” Her eyes blinked, head ache blurring the words momentarily. Emma looked up, disbelieving what had happened. “How-?” she asked.

A smile pulled at Zedd’s face proudly. “Because you are the true Seeker.”

Kahlan almost laughed with relief. All doubts about Emma poured away as she smiled at her. “Give her the sword,” she said, eyes unmoving from Emma’s face. “Name her.”

Emma felt fear rise up inside of her. “What sword?” she asked carefully, flicking her glance between the two of them. She didn’t like how they smiled at her, what it meant. This evening was becoming too much to understand. First the serpent vine and now this?

Zedd turned to face the corner of his room. Raising his hand, he withdrew the magic shielding the sword from sight, holding it between spacial dimensions. Emma stood up quickly as Zedd lifted the sword in grasp. She could hear it singing, humming as it sliced through the air. The wizard brought it up into the light, and for a second, she could see magic glow inside of it like heat.

“This is the Sword of Truth,” Kahlan informed her as she watched the blade in Zedd’s grasp.

Emma pulled away from them, “No,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. She didn’t like where this was heading. Her breath grew labored as she tripped backwards.

“In anyone else’s hands, this is just a piece of steel.” Emma stared at it, eyes wide open, knowing better than most that ‘just a piece of steel’ could inflict just as much damage. She didn’t want it in her hands. “But in the Seeker’s hands, it bestows the power to fight evil.”

“And with it, you will kill Darken Rahl and the Queen.”

Emma let out a barking laugh. “I’m not killing anyone!” she exclaimed, finding the idea ridiculous and terrifying at the same time. “I don’t even know either of you! For all I know this is some kind of trick.” Shaking her head again, she pulled away, swallowing any dizziness she’d begun to feel. Inside her chest, her heart sped up painfully. “I’m not a seeker. I don’t want any book or any sword,” she cast a glance to the sword in question before making a move to leave.

Zedd stepped forward, adverting her step, “calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Emma shouted, “you did this, all of this and you...you ask me to _kill_ someone? No. No way. I’m not having any part of this. Go find someone else. I’m going home to _my_ father, George Cypher. Get out of my way” she said before pushing past them storming out of the small house.

“Emma!” Kahlan called, making a move to follow.

“Let her go,” Zedd interrupted, calling her back. “She needs to find the truth for herself. Until then, she can not be named.” 

Kahlan went still, terrified that Emma would run off and never return. Perhaps the men looking for her, would find Emma instead and capture her, knowing somehow that she was the Seeker.

“What do we do? Just sit and _wait_ for her to find out? That could take days!”

“It’ll take the time it’s needed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Let's see what Cara, Dahlia and Garen are up to in the Queen's castle, shall we? And then either Snow/Charming or more Emma, Richard and Kahlan interaction.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry is an unrestful child and refuses to sleep so Mistress Dahlia reads him a bedtime story.

Cara stared at the child in the small bed. Two years old and Henry was more than a handful. “Mama!” he cried out again with frustration.

“Your mother isn’t home,” she said, stopping him again from trying to climb out of bed. Henry glared at her.

“Mama!”

“Your mother is away on an important mission. She sent home the toy, remember?” Cara picked up the wooden pull-along dragon by the bed. Henry’s tiny hands grabbed for the dragon, distracted momentarily from the lack of his mother. From a young age, Henry had a fascination with knights and dragons. It was no secret that Regina wanted to teach him magic as he grew older, hoping his interest would transfer there as well. “Finally!”

“Trouble with the young Rahl?” Dahlia asked from the doorway.

“I would rather be training new Sisters,” she glared hotly. 

Dahlia laughed, stepping inside the room. “He is demanding, but easily distracted.” Dahlia walked over, running her eyes to Henry before back to Cara. “His bedtime was half an hour ago, Cara. Surely you’re not being outsmarted by a mere child?”

Standing up straight, Cara’s expression shifted dangerously. Dahlia only laughed at it. 

“Bedtime,” Henry murmured, pulling out the book and waving it in Dahlia’s direction. Dahlia raised her eyebrows amused before looking back to Cara.

“He likes me more,” she said proudly.

Cara merely scoffed and walked past her Sister, head held high. “He is a child and seeks the tender-hearted. When he grows older he’ll like me more.” Dahlia’s eyes narrowed, watching the back of Cara leave the room before she turned back to Henry.

“What story is it this time?” she asked softer. Dahlia was rarely tender with anyone. Her Sister’s rarely found her as patient. But even Cara had grown fond of Henry from the moment she was first allowed to hold him, and Mistress Dahlia never forgot the first time she held Henry. He’d grabbed her thumb and fell asleep clutching it close. It had affected Dahlia so strongly that she’d refused to touch him for days afterwards.

Garen had thought she was trying to be above changing the child when Regina was called to visit Rahl. It wasn’t. She was just afraid of what she’d felt. 

Regina handled all the motherly duties. There wasn’t a single time when Henry was sick that Regina didn’t immediately return home and nurse him back to health. 

Cara had once commented on why Regina didn’t use magic. She’d replied swiftly that if the ailment was sever, she would have. However, children require sickness so they can be stronger later in life. As much as she loathed it, Henry required some sickness in his life.

“Stor,” Henry said, pointing to the book.

“Stor _y_ ,” Dahlia corrected. “Your mother requires you to have the eloquence of both her and Lord Rahl. When you are of age, _you_ will be the King Rahl of both kingdoms and rule the land in peace.”

Henry seemed to stare at her for a moment, confused at what she said before he then decided to hand Dahlia the wooden dragon. Sighing, Dahlia removed the toy and looked at the small book in her hands. “My mother used to read this. It’s from D’Hara,” she murmured softly. 

“Mama?” Henry asked.

“Your mother is with Lord Rahl.”

“Why?”

“She wants you to grow up in a land without Snow White.”

“Why?”

“Because with Snow White is now a queen. So she’ll prepare to launch an attack on Regina. We are here to make sure the land is safe so you may claim it when you’re older. You’re a prince, after all. Not that anyone outside of this castle, except Lord Rahl knows this.” Henry frowned again.

“Why?”

Dahlia’s eyes narrowed. “Asking too many questions from a Mord-Sith is dangerous,” she warned. Henry was unaffected by the threat and instead turned his wide eyes back to the book. With a sigh, Dahlia allowed the child to lean against her as she opened the large book with hand-painted pictures. It was far more extravagant than her own had ever been.

After all, she’d been a poor girl in a small village. Her family had only a select amount of books, two of which had belonged to her. But back then, she’d shared them with Cara and Cara had shared her own.

“Now,” Henry said. “Read.”

“Demanding,” Dahlia replied amused. “But the quicker I finish this, the faster you will sleep, right?”

“Yus.”

“Good. Once upo-,” she stopped, glaring at the words before skipping over them. “There was once a princess with golden hair and eyes the color of autumn. She grew up in a land and was a seen as a good, happy princess. She had a smile, a laugh and always a joke that made her people happy. The kingdom loved their princess and their princess loved them.” Dahlia paused there, “see that’s the problem, she loved them, but love doesn’t mean loyalty. Loyalty is far more important.” Henry frowned. “I’ll explain when you’re older. Now: a dark day came for the Princess.”

“Uh-oh,” Henry said, turning the page for Dahlia.

“The princess had a mind sharper than any man, more clever than any wizard. People spoke of it throughout the kingdoms, but unfortunately word had spread to a dark kingdom, from across the waters. The people, arrogantly had told the Dark Kingdom of the Princess’s gift of mind. Jealous, the Dark King stormed the Princess’s castle and killed many of her people until she finally cried out and submitted to them.”

“No!” Henry said unhappily, looking up at Dahlia in distress.

“Hush, the story is not over yet.” Henry went quiet again, cheeks still red with unhappiness as he huffed at the book. “Now, the Dark King took the princess as his. Forced her into a tall tower so no one could rescue her, and promised to keep her kingdom and family safe if she swore to solve his kingdom’s problems.”

“Why?”

“I’m getting to that,” Dahlia said. “Be patient.”

“No.”

Dahlia raised an eyebrow and Henry went quiet again. “Good. Now, the Kingdom had many problems. A queen from another kingdom had cursed the King’s people with a terrible spell; war, disease, famine and death. They ran through the kingdom, taking many lives into the Underworld.”

“ _No_.”

“Careful now. If you’re impatient I won’t finish the story,” she warned him. Again he went quiet. Only then did she continue. “For many years the princess worked hard to keep her people safe. Slowly she grew to love the new people, even as a prisoner. Though as the years continued, her smile faded and her laughter became lost. Never, since her prison in the dark castle had become her new home, did she tell a joke or laugh again.”

Henry frowned, curling up tighter against Dahlia, but keeping quiet so she would continue to read. He balled up, trying not to cry. Though his mother had never said it; Cara, Dahlia and Garen had all told him more than once that crying was not fit for a prince.

“The princess did not cry. Only in the beginning did she...” Dahlia trailed off reading a long further to see what would happen, as her eyes flicked to the savior of the princess she shut the book immediately. “Oh no. This is ridiculous, this version is terrible. I shall tell you the version I grew up with.”

“Pictures.”

“The pictures you can look at later. The story is far better, this has a different person saving the princess. A knight.” Henry grinned at his favorite word. Slowly, Dahlia stood up from the bed proudly as she remembered the story. “The princess never wept but suffered in silence, knowing that she was saving more lives with where she was. However, her parents, weak as they were, _did_ cry for her. They looked far and wide but never found the Dark Kingdom. Unknown to them it was hidden off the seas, far away and cloaked by dark magic.”

Henry clapped his hands, enjoying the story more as he looked up at Dahlia. The Mord-Sith flicked her braid over her shoulder and placed her hands onto her hips.

“Now, a Knight had recently come into the land. A child of great power from the dark kingdom, kept secret and raised in a land alike the Princess. The knight had been raised in an orphanage with great power, slaying its enemies and winning grande battles of knighthood. But hunger for their heritage, to know where they’d came from, lead them to the Dark Kingdom when they reached adulthood.”

“Pren’cess?” Henry asked with a lisp. 

“I’m getting to that. I see you take after your mother with patience,” Dahlia smirked.

“Careful Dahlia, don’t allow the Queen to hear that.” Dahlia turned sharply to the door, only to see Mistress Garen standing with a smirk on her lips. At Dahlia’s questioning eyes, she explained, “you were taking too long to come to bed. I thought perhaps Prince Rahl had slayed you with his wooden sword.” 

Dahlia scoffed at the comment. “I’m sure you can busy yourself for a while longer,” she replied slyly, running her eyes over Garen, who was still dressed in leathers that were currently splattered with blood. More likely she had sought her out only after training one of the rebellion fighters in the dungeon. 

“Perhaps I shall talk to Cara then.”

“She has become more tiring without Regina. Even the guards had begun to complain.”

“Are you suggesting-?”

“No. I know Cara. She needs to be kept amused before she ‘accidentally’ starts a rebellion in a nearby village just so she can end the rebellion herself.” Sighing, she looked up at her Sister. “Perhaps send for a whore, or find a soldier who’s only mildly intimidated by her?” 

“Perhaps she needs a pet,” Garen replied.

“Pren’cess!” Henry said, finding himself unhappy in the lack of story.

Garen smiled, nodding. “I’ll have a word with her then.” At that, Garen left with only a final call back. “Tie up your story quickly, Dahlia. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Dahlia’s eyes followed her hungrily before looking back to Henry. “Well then. I have business to attend elsewhere, so I shall finish the story quickly. When the Knight came to the Dark Kingdom, the King was not happy. He didn’t like outsiders as powerful as the Knight, and sent his own guardsmen to destroy her.”

“Slay?”

“Yes. Yes, slay, destroy it’s the same thing in this context. The Knight easily battled and killed the men. The King had been cocky and had underestimated the Knight’s power, sending only lowly guardsmnes, new ones who had yet to master battle. When the Knight stormed his castle, however, he learnt his mistake.”

“Slay him?”

“Yes. See, unknown to the Princess, the King was using his newfound health in his Kingdom to override others, take their foods and wealth to supply his own so he was able to end the war between his people and the neighboring kingdom that had cursed his own. The Knight did not like the war, not the deaths of countless kingdoms it had caused. But when she slayed the King, the Princess wept.”

“Uh-oh.”

“No. I didn’t like it either, but the Princess didn’t weep because she loved the King. She had grown fond of him, but only because he had protected her from the other, far darker, kingdom. She wept because she had grown loyal to the new people and was distraught that their leader had been killed. Who would protect them now? But the Knight had been captured by the Princess’s eyes, watched as she hotly glared her down and demanded that she serve the Kingdom and help rid them of war and the Darker Kingdom.”

Henry looked up at Dahlia, mesmerized within the story now. Dahlia paused, uncertain for a moment as she studied his glisten eyes observing her.

“The Knight promised. And at the Knight’s voice, the Princess was surprised. Before then, the Knight had not spoken a word in the Princess’s presence. Nor had they shown their face. Instead they had remained hidden behind metal armor. Uncertain, the Princess demanded the Knight to remove their helmet. Slowly, they submitted. Dark hair spilled from the helmet, eyes the shade held the Princess’s autumn eyes. The Knight smiles, lips curving softly. The Princess was caught, and found herself smiling back at the Woman-Knight who had bested the King.”

“Love?”

“Perhaps she fell in love, but I don’t believe it was love at first sight. The Knight was a strong, warrior woman who had never loved before. But she had felt something, perhaps a strong loyalty to the Princess, because she’d knelt down and promised that from that day, she would bring freedom to the Princess and her people, along with peace. And by the Princess’s side, she became the new King and ruled over the lands....the end,” she added as Henry continued to stare. “There’s also something about the Knight making the Princess laugh but that’s unimportant. The important thing is that she saves the Kingdom.”

Henry clapped his hands happily before sleepily rubbing his eyes. “Not tired,” he murmured as Dahlia tucked him into the bed.

“You are lucky, young Rahl. We are loyal to your Mother and will serve her as we do the Lord Rahl. Any other child we would use force, but unfortunately, you have made us loyal to you as well. It is not liked by Cara, she thinks she’s growing soft. However, it makes your mother happy with Cara when she’s nice to you. It also makes her happy when Cara is mean to people that displease her. Cara likes it when the Queen’s happy.”

“Why?”

“When you’re older. You wouldn’t understand at this point. Now, go to sleep.” Henry shut his eyes, and as Dahlia rose, he grabbed her hand. “What now?” she asked.

“Love you,” he murmured.

Dahlia sighed. “Love you too, Prince. But don’t you dare tell anyone, not even Garen otherwise I won’t read any more bedtimes stories, and I know that neither Mistress Garen or Mistress Cara read them to you. Do you understand?” Henry nodded. “Good. Now, sleep well, we’ll protect you.”

Walking out of the room, Dahlia blew out the lights and headed to find her lover. 

Late into the night, hours after she and Garen had drifted beside each other after they’d worked off their lust, Garen awoke sharply at a knock on her door. Taking a look beside her to the heavily sleeping woman, she pulled herself free of the body and walked over to open the bedroom door.

The servant paused at the lack of leathers before quickly finding her eyes again. “Yes?” Garen asked, smirking as she leant against the doorframe.

“I...ah...” he swallowed. “Pr-prince Henry is crying and, ah, M-mistress Cara is, ah-occupied.” He swallowed before shivering under Garen’s stare. The woman raised an eyebrow at him. He was new, one who probably never came near the Queen. Most likely he had been awoken by one of the guards and told to speak to her or suffer death. 

All of the servants were too afraid to enter Henry’s room after the first incident.

“I see, and what would you like me to do?”

The servant went pale. 

“Garen,” Dahlia muttered, rolling over, “fix it quickly and come back to bed. It’s cold.” Garen rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps you should,” she said turning back to face the woman in her bed.

Dahlia peered open one eye and looked at Garen with disgust before rolling onto her stomach. “Fine, whatever. Let him cry,” she muttered through the pillow.

Garen scoffed before turning back to the servant. “Why are you still here?” she asked. The servant’s jaw dropped agape before he stumbled back and ran off. With a last sigh, Garen grabbed one of the blankets from the bed and wrapped it around her. Dahlia loudly and incoherently complained. “Suffer. I’ll be back soon.”  

Stalking down the corridor, Garen walked every inch the Mord-Sith to Henry’s room. The Queen’s bedroom was the closest, on the other side of the castle. Dahlia usually was the furthest. Garen, however, was only a floor below.

She strode up the stairs and opened the wooden door where Henry’s cries could be heard. “Prince Rahl, you are disturbing my sleep,” she told him cooly. He went quiet at her voice, but his chin wobbled threateningly with unsaid cries. “What is the matter?” 

“Scary,” he muttered, arms reaching out for her in a hug.

Garen rolled her eyes, pushing the undone hair, still crinkled from the braid she’d worn it in, back over her shoulder. Slowly she walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Uh!” she warned, raising a finger as he went to hug her. “You have this...what is this?” she asked, picking up the toy in the bed.

“drahan”

“A dragon?” she blinked, looking at the wooden toy. “Dragons are only spoken about in legends in my land, but your mother has mentioned on a occasion that she is on somewhat friendly terms with a dragon shifter. Cara said she met her once. She has a scar to show the tale too.” Placing the toy back down, she glanced over the bed. “Now. You have the dragon to hug, and when your mother returns she will treat you as she usually does.”

Henry watched, tears still in his eyes, as Garen gestured.

“However, Mord-Sith do not hug.” She didn’t add that she would often wake up tangled in Dahlia’s limbs in the middle of the night because the woman had grown cold out of her leathers. “Don’t cry,” she warned.

Henry’s chin wobbled even more dangerously.

“Don’t.”

Tears began to slip down as a hiccup emerged, shaking his shoulders.

“Henry. Prince’s don’t cry.” But as she grew more frustrated, Henry grew worse until he was sobbing again. Desperate to stop it, she grabbed him, before then adjusting the blanket around her body to hide anything the Prince might see. “If I sing, will you be quiet?” she hissed.

Henry went silent again, nodding. 

“Good. But you are _not_ to cry, if you cry I will leave. Do you understand?” Henry nodded once more and Garen breathed out as she tried to remember the lullaby her mother used to sing to her every night. “Okay, lie down,” she murmured softly before pulling his  blankets back up and handing him the wooden dragon to hug. “This is a one time thing, okay?”

“Kay,” Henry whispered softly.

Breathing out softly, Garen shut her eyes, remembering her mother’s face. 

“ _Hush now sweet little one_

_Please don't you cry_

_Rest your head down_

_Close your eyes now and sigh_

_Sun’s gone away_

_Mama will pray_

_Creator will keep you safe_

_all the while you are asleep_.”

She hummed softly after, watching Henry’s eyes grow heavy as she repeated the short lullaby again and again until he was deep asleep. “You are tricky, Prince Rahl,” she murmured softly, rising from the bed, “but I like you. You remind me of a young brother I once had. He’s a D’Haran soldier now, I am told. Perhaps one day he too shall have daughters that will grow-up to protect you as we do now.”

Henry didn’t reply. His breath heavy and slow with sleep. Allowing only the barest smile, Garen rose, brushing strands of dark brown hair from Henry’s forehead before she returned to her own bed.

Unknown to, a crow sat perched on the window ledge outside, looking into the room. When Henry's door shut behind Mistress Garen, the crow gave a last look inside the room before flying off into the night, back home to its master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby is a version of 'Eve's Lullaby' from Xena. I kept the core of it, but a lot of the words were changed around :) so little to no ownership there.


End file.
